Sam and Dean investigate some supernaturaly driven suicides in the hope to destroy the spirit causing them before it can effect anyone else. Can the brothers succeed, or will they find themselves more involved then they'd planned? TWO PART SHORT STORY

The sound of cheerful
whistling, a Bad Company tune, woke Sam. He groaned tiredly as he sat
up stiffly. A freshly showered Dean was coming out of the small
bathroom, his mood perfect due to a good nights rest. The same
couldn't be said for Sam. He felt as though he might as well not
even have gone to bed at all. He certainly wasn't up for his
brother's renditions of classic rock.

"Dean..."
he said in an annoyed tone.

"C'mon Sammy!"
Dean said exuberantly as he approached his sleepy brother and slapped
him on the back, "Get up already, it's breakfast time!"

Breakfast was the usual
charade; Dean wolfed down a hearty plate of cardiac arrest provoking
greasy food, while Sam went for a more conservative choice of
buttered toast and an orange juice.

"So what next?" Dean
asked with his mouth full.

"Well we still need to
find out more about the first victim, Amanda King. She worked
part-time at the prison in the medical bay."

Dean
looked slightly bemused, "In a medical
bay? Wasn't that Max kid studying to be a doctor? Could that be
another connection?"

"I don't know. I
havn't been able to find out anything else. It does seem more then
just a strange coincidence though." Sam sighed, "Look Dean, one
things been troubling me. So far, each victim witnessed another one
of the victims die right before them in one way or another. Chloe
Reeves saw her mother die, I'm wondering if that means that she
could be in danger. What if this thing goes after her too?"

"Well, I got to admit,
it seems to have been the pattern. I guess this will be confirmed if
we can find out exactly what happened to Amanda King. If for some
reason Max Fraser saw her die..."

"I think one of us
should go and see Chloe again, keep an eye out for her, just in
case." Sam said with concern.

"Thats a good idea,
except for one thing Sam. We still don't know what we are up
against, so if it does show up to make Chloe do herself in, what can
we do about it. How do we destroy it?"

"Well," said Sam
after taking a quick sip of his juice, "whatever this thing is,
from the way that Chloe described it before, it sounds like some kind
of spirit, so I guess rock salt would help hold it off. But even
better, we need to find out who it was..."

"Do some grave
digging, salt the bones and torch the sucker." said Dean finishing
off Sam's sentence.

"Yeah. That's about
the size of it."

"Look," said Dean as
he finished off the last fork-full of his breakfast hastily, "Why
don't you go check out what happened to this Amanda, and I'll
stick close to Chloe at the hospital, your better at all that
background stuff anyway, while I'm always the better...action man."
he beamed confidently.

Sam glowered, before his
expression turned serious again. "Okay, but you have to be careful
Dean."

"Sammy, have faith in
your old bro. Nothing can happen so long as Chloe is alright, and I'm
sure as hell gonna make sure that she stays safe, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

Dean allowed Sam to drive
the Impala, and drop him off at the tricky part about
leaving Dean there had been that they'd had to find the smallest of
the shot guns that they had, capable of firing rock salt rounds, so
that Dean could easily smuggle it into the hospital just in case he
would end up needing it. Luckily, they had found the perfect sawn-off
in the trunk which Dean had to shove under his jacket to conceal. And
for extra peace of mind, Dean packed his .45 too, although of course,
that was no good against most of the things that they came up
against.

They hadn't bothered
putting on their best suits this time, they had left the motel in too
much of a hurry. There were more important things to worry about then
what they were going to wear.

After Dean had
successfully made his way into the hospital, Sam drove out of the
parking lot and headed over to the prison. He hadn't yet worked out
how he was going to get access to the information that he needed, and
so it was beginning to look as though he would end up making it up as
he went along. He didn't like feeling so un-prepared especially
when he was about to set foot on prison grounds and lie his ass off,
but he knew he had to do this or other people, maybe Chloe if his
suspicions were correct, could die.

It was obvious when he
had reached his destination. High walls surrounded the prison
perimeter, endless coils of barbed wire atop of every surface. He
pulled into the parking lot, carefully observing a couple of guards
who stood chatting and smoking their cigarettes near a gate at the
north side. They looked as if they were sharing a joke of some sort
because they were laughing. The one man was heavy set, and his great
belly wobbled with his cackling.

Before
getting out of the car, Sam scanned the rest of the north wall, and
spotted a sign that indicated there to be an office. He grabbed the
door handle and opened it. As he shut the door, he looked around and
noticed that the two guards were now staring directly at him. Uh
Ohhh... he
thought to himself,
stay calm, stay calm.

He
could feel the concentrated gazes of the guards on his back as he
walked as un-suspiciously as possible. He finally reached the office
sign, and noticed a door inset into the wall. Before entering, he
gazed into the window. He could see a grey haired woman in her
sixties, arranging files neatly onto shelves behind a small counter.
A younger brunette woman sat on her own at a desk in the far corner,
talking on the phone. Well
this shouldn't be too tough,
he thought.

He opened the door and
walked in, headed for the older woman at the counter. As he came to a
stop, the lady dropped what she was doing, and turned to face him, a
pleasant smile on her face. Her glasses were nearly on the very end
of her nose, so she looked at him over the top of the frames.

"Hello dear, can I
help you?" she asked helpfully.

"Yeah...I..." he
struggled to find the words he should say, "I'm here because of
Amanda King..."

"You
have?" Sam asked feeling puzzled inside whilst trying not to show
his surprise on the outside. How could they have been expecting him?

"I was so sorry to
hear about your mother dear...we boxed her things up for you, they
are upstairs in the medical bay." the woman continued, "Sue?"
she gently called to the brunette, "This is Amanda's son. Peter,
isn't it dear?" she asked looking back at Sam.

"Er...yeah, that's
me." Sam was utterly confused now, but as he didn't have a plan
anyway, he figured it was just best to go along with this. It would
make things easier now that they had got his identity confused with
Amanda King's son. It was lucky for him really, as he was still
wondering what he would have told them otherwise.

Suddenly, the office
door flew open, and Sam shifted his gaze, noticing that it was one of
the guards, the heavy set guy, that he had seen outside.

"Everything alright
Joan? Just doing my rounds of the grounds, thought I'd just check
in." he said, addressing the older lady, but at the same time,
scrutinizing Sam with a wondering gaze.

Joan looked up at Sam
with sympathetic eyes. For a moment, he felt bad that he was tricking
such a sweet old lady, but regularly deceiving people was a necessary
part of the job, not only to protect himself and Dean, but to protect
those around them.

"This is Amanda's
son." she leaned over, and gently patted Sam on the arm, "Hes
come to collect her things. Would you be able to take him up to
medical to fetch them?"

"Of course." Bill
said, his expression had changed now, and he was no longer looking at
Sam as if he might be up to something, much to Sam's relief. "Let
me just radio in, make sure the section is secure from prisoners."
With that he pressed a button on the side of his walkie talkie, and
explained the situation to the man on the other end.

"Okay," Bill said
after a few moments, "we're alright to go ahead."

Bill led Sam through a
series of corridors, each with doors that someone had to buzz them
through each time. These were staff only corridors, Sam noted. After
a little while, he and Bill reached an elevator. They got in, and
Bill pressed a button to take them to level 5, right at the top.

Eventually, they reached
their destination and Sam could see that they had reached the medical
bay. He didn't imagine such a facility in a prison, it looked
exactly like a small section from a hospital. A few staff members
passed them as they made their way through, they greeted Bill as they
past.

"Ah. This is it."
Bill said as they turned right around a corner. He came to a stop
outside a door, took out a bunch of keys and unlocked it. He held the
door open for Sam. "Second locker on the right." he said, "I'll
give you a few minutes to yourself kid."

"Thank you." said
Sam, as he made his way into the room, and shut the door behind
himself.

He managed to find the
locker straight away. He opened the door to find a cardboard box,
which apparently had been filled with Amanda's things. He grabbed
the box, and made his way over to a chair that was in the corner. He
sat down and rested the box on his lap.

After opening it, he
started to look through everything carefully, in case there were any
clues about what had happened to Amanda, but of course, there wasn't.
Just a few items of clothing, make-up, a couple of books and general
knick knacks that you would normally associate with a woman's
belongings.

Sam
sighed. He knew that he'd need to ask Bill about what had happened.
He also realised that the real
Peter King could be stopping by at any moment to collect these
things.

Sam decided to tip the
contents of the box into the bottom of the locker, leaving him with
the empty box. He would need Bill and everyone else to continue to
believe that he was Peter until he was safely off prison grounds, so
by taking the box with him, they would think that he was taking
Amanda's things with him.

He closed the locker,
then made his way out of the room. Bill was leaning up against the
opposite wall waiting for him. Sam decided that he had no choice. He
would have to ask Bill some questions now, or his chance would slip
away.

"I was just
wondering..." Sam said, "there were a few things about what
happened to my mother that I'm still unclear on...and I was
wondering if you can tell me a couple of things."

"Okay, I'll try."
Bill said straightening himself out.

"Well, its just...how
did she seem to you before she died, I mean, did she appear to be
upset or anything. She didn't always talk to me about these things
you see..."

"Well yeah. I guess
she was upset, mind you, so were a lot of people."

"What do you mean?"
Sam asked curiously.

"I'm
surprised that she never told you this.
But anyway, a couple of weeks before she...er...passed,
we had a little problem here at the prison. Couple of the inmates got
out of hand in the cafeteria, before we knew it, it was complete
chaos. They were all at it, punching, kicking..." he paused while
he remembered, "Anyhow, a lot of them ended up hurt and injured,
stretched the staff to the limits. We only have a limited number of
medically trained personnel, each had to work from different rooms
while we separated the prisoners. Your mother, she was up here having
to work on her own, in this room as it happens," Bill stretched out
an arm to a door that was next to him. It wasn't locked, and his
hand caused it to slowly open.

"The guards had
brought up this one guy, Henry Baxtor, who was sentenced here after
committing multiple armed robberies and attempting murder. One of the
other inmates had managed to stab him repeatedly with his eating
utensils. Got him deep, they did. Anyways, your mother, she did
everything that she could for him, but he'd already lost too much
blood, and he died."

Sam
gazed through the door into the room where this had happened. It was
a small square shape, with a paper lined bed at one end, and various
pieces of medical equipment set out. There were a lot of wide windows
which gave the room good light, thick steel bars ran down each and
every one casting striped shadows across the sterile white wash
walls. So
Amanda King saw someone die too, just like the other victims,
he thought to himself.

"Then...your
mother...what happened to her...it must have shaken her up more then
we could have realised at the time." Bill shook his head from side
to side with disbelief. He looked deep into Sam's eyes, "He tried
so hard to save her...I'm so sorry."

"Who...who was it
trying to save her life?" Sam blurted this question out without
thinking, it must have sounded strange, but Bill didn't seem to
notice, and answered any way.

"Some student.
Sometimes the university send them out to get career
experience...they never like getting sent here, can't say I blame
them really."

Sam had a bad feeling.
"The student, was that Max Fraser by any chance?" he asked.

Sam had to think quickly
before Bill got suspicious, "Oh, I think I remember someone
mentioning his name..." that was it. All of the deaths were
definitely connected. The only question now was, would it continue to
happen, or could they stop it before anyone else gets hurt...

Dean
had been sat on a bench, and was waited patiently outside of Chloe
Reeves' room all morning. So far all seemed to be pretty normal
here,
at least for a nuthouse anyway,
he thought. The nurses hadn't let him go into her room to see her
when he'd arrived, because, for the first time since she'd been
committed, Chloe was finally able to sleep properly, and she'd been
out for a while now.

There was a small hinged
peep-hole built into the door at eye level, so every now and then,
Dean took a look to make sure that everything was still alright. It
had been every time. The girl was peacefully asleep on her bed.

He sighed out of
boredom. He realised that his throat felt a bit dry. The heating was
on a little too high for his liking. He glanced to the side, and
noticed that there was a Coke vending machine just a few feet away.
He got up, and made his way over to it, his hands searching for money
in his pockets as he went.

He finally found the
coins that he needed, and feeded them into the slot. He pressed a
button, and his drink was delivered in the bottom tray. He took the
can out, and opened it. It spluttered and fizzed a little due to
being shaken up, but Dean ignored this, lifted the can to his lips
and began to drink, quenching his thirst.

"Ahhh!" he sighed,
"That's better."

THUD!

The sudden sound made
Dean jump into action. He ran back the short distance to Chloe's
room, dropping the can of Coke onto the floor, and peered through the
peep hole. She wasn't on her bed any more, but as his focus shifted
direction, he gasped in horror. There she was, dangling by a bed
sheet that was tied to the light fixture, then around her neck, a
chair lay on it's side below her. "DAMN IT!" he yelled.

He
quickly stepped back, then kicked the door as hard as he could, once,
then twice. It flew open, bits of broken wood was sent spraying into
the room as he made a grab for the chair. He set it the right way up,
then clambered onto the seat, taking a knife out of his pocket at the
same time. As quickly as he could, he hacked away at the sheet, until
finally, he was all the way through.

He
caught Chloe in his arms, stepped down from the chair, then laid her
out on the ground. He put a finger on her wrist to feel for a pulse.

"Somebody help me in
here!" he yelled desperately towards the doorway. Looking back down
at Chloe, he noticed that he couldn't feel a pulse, and she had
started to turn a funny colour.

He adjusted the position
of her head, and proceeded in giving her mouth to mouth
resuscitation. "C'mon Chloe! Don't you dare die on me!"

He persisted with his
attempts to save her life but it didn't take long before he
realised that his efforts were fruitless. "Damn it! Where are all
the doctors!" he yelled again, "HEY! WE NEED HELP IN HERE!"

But it was too late. She
had just about slipped away.

A sudden invisible force
shoved Dean away from Chloe's lifeless body. He slid into the bed,
smashing his head on the metal frame. Groggily and stunned, he looked
up, and saw a black figure moving towards him. As it approached, it
was as if a sudden feeling of doom rose from inside of him, he felt
like he was plunging into a terrible hopeless darkness...

Whilst driving back to
the hospital, Sam decided that it would be a good idea to phone his
and Dean's good friend Bobby Singer. Bobby had a wealth of
knowledge pertaining to the supernatural, knowledge that had come
through age and experience as well as good old hunting. Sam knew that
if anyone would have an answer, it would be Bobby.

He reached into his
pocket and pulled out his cell phone, he pressed a button which was
programmed as Bobby's on the speed dial. He held it to his ear and
listened to it ringing.

"Hello?" said the
voice on the other end.

"Hey Bobby, it's
Sam."

"Sam! It's good to
hear from you kid, how are things?"

"Well actually, we've
kind of hit a brick wall with a job that we've been working on, and
I was hoping you might be able to help."

"Well, I'll
certainly try. What's goin' on then?" said Bobby.

"We're in Little
Rock. Four people have died in a way that's been made to look like
suicide. Each victim witnessed the other's death, and in two cases
a black shadowy figure was seen. I think this spirit, whatever,
drives the person to commit suicide, takes over their emotions
somehow. A couple of the victims were apparently acting differently
before they died, y'know kinda depressed."

"Hmmm..." Bobby
sighed, "think I've heard of something like that before, hang on
a minute."

Sam waited patiently for
Bobby to get back to him.

"Ahh, here we are,"
said Bobby finally, "just found something in one of my books. From
what I can tell, I think that your dealing with some kind of
malevolent spirit, nasty sons of a bitches by the looks of things.
Some of the accounts written here say that they latch on to a living
person, and remove their happiness, leaving them nothing more then a
weak emotional wreck. Says that sometimes, the spirit will stay with
a person over the course of their whole lifetime, never leaving their
side, draining their emotions slowly. The victim doesn't even
realise what's happening to them, probably just believe that they
were born unlucky and miserable."

"But what about the
spirit moving from person to person once they have killed them?"
asked Sam.

"Um. Yeah, it mentions
that too. If somebody witnesses the last victims death..."

"The spirit takes them
over too, just like what's happened here."

"That's right."
Bobby confirmed.

"Where do those kind
of spirits come from in the first place?"

"Well according to
this, the spirit comes from someone whos passed, someone who lived an
angry violent life, possibly someone who committed murder or had the
intent to. But for it to happen, one more circumstance must be in
place."

"What's that?"

"Well Sam, you know
that tradition that they have in hospitals, that when a person dies,
a window is opened to let the spirit out?"

"Yeah."

"Well this spirit
wasn't able to go free. Someone forgot to open a window."

"The guy who died at
the prison!" Sam exclaimed, "Henry Baxtor, he died in the medical
bay in front of the first victim. I saw the room he died in, theres
no way the'd ever be able to open the windows in there! They've
put up too many bars...and he lived a violent life; armed robbery and
attempted murder!"

"Well that must be
your guy then."

"Does it say how to
kill the spirit? Will burning the bones work?" Sam asked eagerly.

"Just a minute..."
said Bobby, he needed to pause to read up some more. "Oh, that
could be a problem..." he finally said.

"What? What's
wrong?" Sam asked panic in his voice.

"Well, burning the
bones will work, 'cept that the current victim might not recover
straight away. They'd still probably have to be talked out of
wastin' themselves. See the spirit messes with brain activity,
sometimes even people around the victim can be affected strangely,
slight memory loss etc... "

"We went to see the
wife of one of the victims, she forgot to mention that her husband
saw one of his students drive his car into a wall...maybe the spirit
had effected her." Sam sighed, "Why can't these things ever be
easy..."

When
Sam pulled into the hospital parking lot, he noticed that there were
a number of police cars gathered at the main entrance and a crowd of
people standing to one side. Oh
no! Something's gone down already... he
thought. As soon as he found a free space, he slammed on the breaks
and got out of the car, shutting the door closed.

He ran in the direction
of the entrance, but an officer stepped out in front of him with his
hands held up, stopping him from going any further. "I'm sorry
Sir, I can't allow you to enter the building."

"But...my
brother...hes here somewhere..." Sam said.

"Sir, if you'd like
to go and stand down there with the others, one of my officers will
come and speak to you as soon as possible." he motioned over to the
group of people, and Sam noticed the receptionist, Sarah, that he and
Dean had met the day before.

He stepped away from the
officer, and paced quickly over to Sarah. It looked as if a few of
the other hospital staff were out here too, chattering amongst
themselves.

"Hey!" Sam said as
he came to a stop in front of her.

Sarah looked surprised
to see Sam. He noticed that she quickly scanned her wide eyes over
his clothes, obviously curious that he was no longer wearing a smart
suit.

"What happened here?"
he asked her.

"You tell us. That guy
you came here with yesterday..."

"What? Where is he?"

Sarah
took in a deep breath, "Well he went a bit... funny."

"Funny?"

"Yeah, that girl Chloe
Reeves who you came here to see yesterday, well he shows up this
morning, which was fine until," she paused, "well no one knows
exactly what happened, but Miss Reeves is dead, and that friend of
yours was the last person to see her."

"He was there when she
died?" Sam felt an anxious twinge stirring around in his gut.

"Yeah, I guess.
Anyhow, next thing we know was, he was running down the corridor in
some kind of state, he had a gun in his hand and was screaming
something about a shadow being after him or somthin', scared the
life out of Kenneth over there..." she pointed to a skinny man in a
long white doctors coat, with a big brown moustache who was stood a
few feet away from them.

"Where did he go?"
Sam asked as the worry started to show in his tone.

"Nobody knows. He got
out through a fire exit at the back of the building."

"Look!" Sam snapped,
"It's really important that I find find him right away! Is there
anything else you can tell me about what happened, anything at all?"

Sarah looked stunned,
"No! That's all we know, I'm sorry!"

Sam didn't wait any
longer, he didn't want to get caught up in the police interviews
and such. He ran back to the Impala, whipping his cell phone from his
pocket. He dialled Bobby to explain what was happening. He'd need
all the help he could get now that the spirit had taken over Dean's
emotions.

Dean sat huddled up on
the carpeted floor of the motel room, slowly rocking himself
backwards and forwards. He had the blinds closed, which darkened the
room. He felt so unhappy that it was painful. He was still aware of
the spirit that was doing this to him, but he could no longer see it
himself, but, he could certainly feel it there hanging over him like
a black, heavy cloud.

It didn't matter any
more though. Chloe had died because of him. An innocent girl. If he'd
had been paying more attention...he could have saved her life. But he
didn't, couldn't.

"It's
my fault, my fault..." he wept, his shoulders heaving up and down
with each sob. The tears fell rapidly from his eyes, falling onto his
knees. How
could I have let this happen, why did she have to die?
he thought.
Dad died for me too,I can't take this any more...can't win this
fight.

The
time passed slowly whilst in this state of mind, but eventually he
heard the door open, and looked up to see a very worried looking Sam
burst into the room.

"Dean!
Thank God I've found you! he yelled as he approached his brother.
"Dean?" he fell to his knees, reached a hand out and placed it on
Dean's shoulder.

"Get
away from me Sammy..." Dean whispered.

"Dean,
listen! The spirits latched onto you, it's making you feel this
way..."

"She died because of
me. I didn't help her." Deans tears grew heavier.

"It wasn't your
fault, you did all you can..." Sam said softly, trying to comfort
him.

"No!" Dean yelled as
he jumped up onto his feet, "I didn't!" He walked over to the
table, and kicked it violently causing it to collapse in a heap,
confirming it's cheap quality.

Sam sprang up and made a
grab for Dean, but he shoved his hand's away.

"You should stay away
from me Sam! I can't protect you, I can't save anyone!" he was
starting to sweat now as his behaviour got more and more erratic.

Sam had guessed that it
was going to be traumatic, but seeing Dean like this was like nothing
that he could have imagined. It was as if he had turned into another
man completely. He felt the surges of his own emotions rippling
through him as tears of his own started to fall.

"Dean...we can work
all this out, I promise, okay. Bobby's on his way down to help sort
this out, he should be here by morning. We've just gotta get
through this until then. We have to salt and burn the remains of a
prisoner I found out about. It's his spirit that's doing this..."

"No Sam! I don't
want you to get hurt...you have to stay away from me!" he pushed
past Sam and started towards the door.

Sam hurried in the same
direction, and tried to force himself between Dean and the door
before it could be opened, but Dean beat him to it by a split second,
but not before Sam could get a tight grip on his wrist.

Dean swung around, "Let
go of me!" he screamed, his face up close to Sam's.

"I'm not gonna let
you hurt yourself Dean! Your not leaving this room!"

"Damn it Sam!" Dean
tried to wriggle free of Sam's grip, but he just held on tighter.
"Don't make me do somethin' I'll regret!"

"Your staying here!"
Sam yelled back, making a grab with his other hand.

"If I have to do this
the hard way Sam, I will, I can't let you follow me! I can't let
you get dragged down with me! I don't wanna hurt you but..."

Before Sam knew what was
happening, Dean managed to make a move for his .45, and pointed it
towards his legs. "I'm sorry Sam," he sobbed, "I have to do
this..." he pulled the trigger, and the shot blasted out.

Sam tried to get out of
the way, but the bullet hit his calf, "Arrghhhhhh!" he screamed
out in pain as he fell to the floor closing a hand around the wound
as he went. With the pain, he couldn't find the physical strength
to get up to his feet. Instead he was forced to watch helplessly
through the open door, to see Dean run out to the Impala. A roar from
the engine, and his brother speeded away within seconds.

Present Day...

"Damn it! What was he
thinkin'!" Bobby cursed as he drove himself and Sam around Little
Rock in the hope that they would find Dean. They'd been searching
all day, but it was getting close to sun down now which would make it
more difficult.

"Well that's just
it, he wasn't thinking. The spirit is controlling how hes feeling.
We've got to find him Bobby, before it's too late." Sam was
relieved when Bobby had shown up that morning, he just hoped that
they'd be able to find Dean, but he knew that there was a chance
that he could be anywhere now. Maybe he'd even left town. It could
be like looking for a needle in a haystack. But, he couldn't give
up on him. He knew that if the roles were reversed and it was Dean
looking for him when he was in danger, that he'd go to the ends of
the earth to save him if he had to.

"It may be controlling
him, but it still pains me that he shot you like that. Lucky for you
it's just a graze."

"Why do you think its
affected Dean that quickly and in a way that made him turn on me, I
mean, the other victims didn't show violent intentions towards
anyone they knew."

Bobby sighed heavily,
"Well, I guess it must depend on the person. Your brother tends to
hide a lot of himself away, bottles up a lot. Maybe it just brought
that out of him, kinda like when a volcano erupts, letting all hell
break loose."

Sam's eyes welled up,
and a few tears rolled down his cheeks, "I just hope hes okay..."

Bobby quickly glanced
from the road to Sam, "So do I kid. We'll find him, somehow,
okay? I mean, I already got a contact whos tryin' to find out where
Baxtor is buried, that will get us part way there." he looked back
through the windshield turning his focus back onto the road ahead.
"Maybe you should try his cell again."

Sam sniffed back the
tears and pulled his phone from his jacket pocket. He must have
already tried ringing Dean for what seemed like a hundred times, and
had left him message after message, but so far Dean hadn't answered
or responded in any way. Even though he thought trying him again this
time would turn out the same way, he pressed the button that dialled
Dean's number, and held the phone to his ear...

Dean heard his cell ring
yet again. But yet again, he didn't know wether he should answer
it. He felt conflicted. He knew it was Sam, and that if he told him
where he was he'd come to him. He wanted him here, but then again,
he didn't. If Sam was near him, he might be in danger from the
spirit, but also in danger from him. Because people had died because
of him.

He sat in the Impala
which was parked at the end of a dirt track upon a cliff that looked
down into a valley within Burns Park. This is where he'd been since
he'd left Sam at the motel. He stared forwards out of the
windshield his tears stinging his red eyes. It was quite a view, the
sky was turning a flaming red colour as the sun started to go down.
Mountains across the other side of the valley stood out in front of
the vivid hue. He even saw, to his surprise, that an eagle was flying
contentedly around the sheer jagged rock expanse. It's wing span
slicing through the air in a smooth motion that was almost hypnotic.

But his phone kept
ringing.

Maybe
I should answer it, hear Sammy's voice one last time, say
goodbye...

He
manage to disengage his focus from the view in front of him, and
looked down at the passenger seat where his phone lay, the display
screen lit brightly up as it rang out urging for his attention. Just
to say goodbye...

He reached for the phone
and answered it quickly so that he couldn't give himself time to
change his mind.

"Sammy..." he
sobbed.

"Dean! Where are
yo..."

"I'm sorry Sam, but
I can't keep doin' this..." he shut his eyes and pictured his
little brothers face.

"What are you talking
about! I can help you! Bobbys here, were going to straighten this
out..."

"Nobody can help...but
I got it all figured out see...I've even found me the perfect spot
to do it..." Dean opened his eyes again, and stared out to the
cliff edge that he'd picked out to jump from. "It's beautiful
Sammy...theres even an eagle here..."

"Dean, tell me where
you are NOW! Don't do this, let me come see you..."

"Goodbye Sammy, I love
you..." he hung the phone up.

"NO!" Sam yelled as
the call ended, he balled his free hand into a tight fist.

"Sam? What he say?"
Bobby asked anxiously.

"He said goodbye..."

Bobby gazed at him, a
certain horror in his eyes.

Sam buried his face in
his hands, he felt so useless not being able to do more. He'd let
his brother down. He was going to die and there was nothing that he
could do about it.

Then
it hit him. An
eagle.
He brought his head up quickly and turned to Bobby. "Eagles are
rare, so there wouldn't be too many places around here that you'd
see them, right?" his tone showed a sudden glint of hope which
didn't go un-noticed.

"I guess..."

Sam suddenly saw a gas
station approaching, "Pull in there..." he pointed.

Bobby turned into the
side and came to a stop outside the shop that stood next to the
pumps. Sam lept out of the car, and sprinted in.

There was a middle aged
man at the serving counter, who looked up as the door had flew open.

"Excuse me..." Sam
gasped, "do you know where there is some kind of national park or
place where we could see eagles around here?"

"Yep. You want Burns
Park, just two miles south of here. Only place you will see 'em
round these parts..."

Sam didn't wait to
hear any more. He rushed back through the doors, and rejoined Bobby
in the car. "We gotta go to Burns Park! Two miles south. I think
that's where Dean is!"

Bobby pulled off the gas
station lot at top speed, and headed south. A few minutes later, his
cell rang. "Hello..." he said as he spoke to his caller, "really?
That's great! Thanks for that!" he hung up then shot Sam a quick
look.

"Good news. That was
my contact, he told me where Baxtor is buried, the cemetery is on the
way where we're headed. I'll get what I need from the trunk, and
do some diggin' while you go after your brother."

Sam let out a big
breathe. Finally there seemed to be a bit of light at the end of the
tunnel.

It was dark by the time
they had reached the cemetery. Bobby grabbed his shovel, some salt,
and gas from the trunk, then disappeared by torchlight amongst the
graves to find the plot where Henry Baxtor had been buried.

Sam shifted himself over
to the drivers seat, and set off towards Burns Park, driving at a
dangerous speed. He couldn't waste another second so keeping to the
rules of the road was simply not an option right now.

When he had finally
arrived at the park, he drove through an open gateway. In the light
of the headlights he could make out a group of tourists to the right,
packing their camping gear into their huge RV, in a spot allocated
for parking. He squinted and scanned the area carefully. There was a
track further behind where the tourists were parked up, but then
looking to the left, he could see another dirt track. But which one
should he choose.

C'mon
Sam! C'mon! Dean's life depends on you making the right
decision...
he thought to himself, a nauseating pang in his stomach.

He suddenly had a gut
feeling, he stepped on the gas and made a left turn, choosing the
more deserted looking route.

He tried to concentrate,
but the track was getting bumpy, forcing him to drive slower. Walls
of overgrowth leaned towards him from either side, darkening the way
further even more. After what seemed like forever had passed, he
started to question wether he'd taken the right track...but then as
a sudden opening appeared, there it was. The Impala.

Sam steered hard to the
right into the opening, the tyres spat gravel and dirt all around
him. He hit the breaks as he pulled up besides his brother's car.

"Dean!" he yelled as
he climbed out of his seat and slammed the door, he didn't even
bother to cut the engine or the head lights, "DEAN!"

He opened the door on
the Impala's driver side and looked in. Dean wasn't there. "Oh
no...DEAN!" he started to panic again as he backed away from the
car. His foot twisted on a rock, and he found himself plummet to the
hard surface. He gasped in pain as the wound on his calf managed to
scrape on the ground.

He managed to bring
himself up to a sitting position, a lone silhouette in the moonlight
just feet away, suddenly catching his attention. Dean.

The adrenalin gave him
the extra power that he needed to get onto his feet, then he started
making his way over to his bother, though he was limping quite badly
now. It was just as well that he needed to approach Dean with care,
as not to startle him into jumping.

The sight of Dean
standing on the cliff's edge sent a new cascade of tears down Sam's
face which was now dirtied from falling to the ground. He tried to
walk silently, the closer he got, he raised his hands up, even though
Dean seemed to be fixated on the dark valley below.

"Dean," Sam sobbed,
"please don't do this. I need you, I...I can't do this without
you. This isn't you Dean..." but he was stunned into silence when
the black robed spirit appeared right beside his brother. It was
standing in the same stance as Dean, as if copying him.

"Listen to me, you
have to come away from the edge, please..." Sam pleaded, but Dean
seemed to ignore him. He reached down with one of his hands and edged
it slowly to one of Dean's.

Suddenly
a loud crackling noise filled his ears, and the spirit was being
engulfed by violent pulsating bright orange and red flames. Sam made
his move, grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him a few meters from the
edge with such force, that they both fell backside first onto the
ground, just as what was left of the spirit exploded into a ball of
light before it disappeared completely. Bobby
did it!
Sam thought, he
found the grave and torched Baxtor's remains!

But there was still one
problem left, which was confirmed as Dean leapt to his feet and ran
towards the cliff edge.

"Nooooooo!" Sam
shouted as he darted after him, luckily grabbing a handful of his
jacket just in time, and pulled him to safety again.

Sam wrapped his arms
tightly and protectively around him, encasing him in a loving safe
space. He knew that once he was allowed to go through the motions,
Dean would be okay. They'd both be okay.

"How'd you feel?"
Bobby asked as he sat on the end of Dean's bed.

Dean lifted his head off
the pillow, then sat up. "I feel kinda dumb, i suppose. He still
couldn't get over the way he had acted before, although
technically, it hadn't been his fault. Attempting suicide
definitely hadn't been on his to-do list, so he felt ashamed that
he'd nearly took a sky dive off a cliff.

Then there was the other
bad thing that he'd done. He looked over to Sam who was sat across
from him on his own bed. "I'm sorry I shot you Sammy..." he
said softly.

"Hey don't worry
about it." Sam said in the same quiet tone.

"Y' know I don't
know what I'd do without you bro." he really didn't.

"You
know I'd do anything
for you Dean, I'll always be here for you. I'll never leave your
side."

"Yeah, I know you
won't." as he said this, Dean got to his feet and went over to
sit next to Sam, pulling him into a hug. Nothing felt safer, nor gave
him more reassurance, then knowing he'd always have his brother
close by.

THE END

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